Luc: A Spy Thriller

by Greg Coppin

  His phone rang. He pulled the mobile from his shirt pocket. He seemed to talk animatedly, but he looked at his watch, nodded, and seemed to accept whatever was being spoken about. Probably the client letting him know why he was late. He finished the call and put the phone down on the wooden table next to his almost empty beer glass. He called into the bar and the waiter appeared. The waiter nodded and returned shortly with another cool glass of beer.

  I liked the look of that cool glass of beer. It was something I could (very much) have done with.

  And then I realised: the second bar. I looked behind me. A pavement table towards the rear would afford an ideal position. I waited until there were more people on the front between me and Toledo and then I strolled over to the second bar and sat at a circular table outside. It was the last table in the row and I was facing out to the water, but with just enough slant to be able to see Toledo without turning round too much. I ordered a cool glass of orange juice, (not beer, had to keep the head clear), and allowed myself a little smile as it was brought out and I was able to take my first long sip. I sat under a parasol and gazed at the beautiful view of the turquoise sea. With an occasional glance left.

  ***

  I was on my second glass of orange juice. The client was very late. Toledo, wisely, had switched to water.

  The sound of the water taxi approaching made him turn round and look out at the marina. We watched as it manoeuvred itself next to the jetty.

  The next group of passengers disembarked.

  We watched as the mass of tourists dispersed and through them walked two men in light tropical suits, one carrying a briefcase. I used my phone. Pretended I was a tourist, taking photos of the stunning view. Got a good shot of the two of them, just in case they turned out to be the clients. The pair walked towards the first bar and immediately took their seats at Toledo’s table. They shook hands.

  Gotcha.

  One of the men was white, with close-cropped silver hair. The other was dark-skinned and had a red handkerchief in his breast pocket. Was this the Guatemalan?

  The men immediately got down to business. Toledo slid an envelope over to them. The white man looked inside. This, presumably, was information about me.

  He’s behind you…

  The white man passed over a small packet. Toledo looked inside, seemed to be satisfied, put it into the rucksack he’d brought.

  The waiter brought out two glasses of fruit juice for the newcomers. They barely seemed to acknowledge him.

  So these were the men who’d killed Wilson - or had him killed. Either way they’d earned my ire. I wouldn’t be warming to these chaps.

  I could go over now and smash their faces. Could probably manage two of the three before the third got involved. No. We needed to know why. Why they had Wilson tortured and murdered.

  ‘Hi. Philip.’

  I looked to my right and walking up the front I recognised a beaming Lucia, waving her arm at me, a small older man beside her. ‘We recognised the hat,’ she called out.

  I thought, Christ. That’s quite loud.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  My eyes flicked over to Toledo and the two clients. They were laughing about something and the laughter didn’t stop. Neither looked in my direction. Maybe I’d been too paranoid about it. People were shouting out things all the time around here.

  Lucia and the old fella came over to my table.

  ‘Hi,’ Lucia said again.

  ‘Lucia. Hi.’

  ‘This is my granddad,’ she said. ‘His name’s Frank.’

  ‘How are you, Frank?’

  ‘That hat looked better on me than it does on you,’ he said. Great, I thought, he’s going to take the hat back. (Why not just pick me up and plonk me on Toledo’s table?)

  Frank smiled. In fact, he chuckled. He shook my hand. ‘Messing with you,’ he said, beaming. ‘Can we sit? It’s a long boat ride.’

  ‘Yes, sure.’

  Lucia and Frank joined me.

  ‘A hundred and twenty dollars. Just had to meet the guy who dished out that for a boat ride.’ Frank lifted a hand to signal the waitress. ‘You rich, Phil?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I was just in a hurry. And your granddaughter is a mean negotiator.’

  ‘Oh, tell me about it. So what were you in a hurry for?’

  The waitress arrived and Frank ordered a grapefruit juice for Lucia and a Belikin beer for himself.

  ‘Just experience the islands,’ I said lamely when she’d gone.

  Frank looked at me with a disbelieving smile.

  ‘You don’t mind us joining you?’ Lucia asked.

  ‘Not at all,’ I said. And, actually, I now meant it. Lucia was sitting to my left, blocking the view to Toledo’s table. Which in turn, of course, meant they couldn’t see me too well either. But I’d be able to see them the moment they got up to go.

  ‘I know why you wanted that boat ride,’ Frank said.

  ‘And why was that, Frank?’

  He looked over at Lucia. He looked back at me and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Granddad,’ Lucia said, catching the look.

  ‘Come on, it’s normal, it’s healthy, the guy likes you.’

  ‘Granddad, you said you - .’

  ‘And if he’s rich…’

  ‘I’m not rich, Frank.’

  ‘But you like my granddaughter?’

  ‘She is a lovely girl.’

  ‘Can we talk about something else?’ Lucia said, looking embarrassed.

  ‘Phil, I’m old in my bones. I rattle, I creak. But I have a heart. And that heart hasn’t changed in sixty years. I’m a born romantic, Phil. And I have to say there’s not much better in this world than the beauty of young love.’

  ‘Very kind of you to call me young.’

  ‘Would you prefer to be my age? Okay, I can see you youngsters are a little embarrassed. And, actually, that’s nice to see too. But I’ll change the subject. What do you do, Phil?’

  ‘For work? For work, I’m a salesman. But at the moment I’m on holiday, so…’

  ‘Absolutely. You don’t even want to think about it. Understand. You live in England?’

  ‘Yes. A county called Hampshire. You both live in Belize City?’

  They both nodded. ‘That’s home,’ Frank said, smiling. ‘So are you liking your stay here, Phil?’

  ‘I am, Frank. I’m liking it a lot. So what do you do, Lucia?’ I asked, turning to her.

  ‘I’m a student,’ she said. ‘At the University of Belize. I’m studying psychology.’

  ‘Psychology. So that’s why you were able to sum me up so quickly.’

  Lucia didn’t reply. She just smiled, knowingly.

  ‘She’s the brains of the family,’ Frank said. ‘I’m the beauty.’ He laughed. ‘No, we’re all proud of her. First in the family, and all that. What’s not to be proud about?’

  I could see the waiter at the other bar was standing by Toledo’s table. And then I could see why - they were paying up.

  Another water taxi was pulling in.

  More people now congregated on the front. The three men got up and did the usual discreet stretching. They walked out onto the front and down towards the jetty with the rest of the crowd. It looked like they were all going back on the same boat. I would like to have gone back on that boat too, so I wouldn’t risk losing the clients - but that was a no-go.

  I looked back at Frank and Lucia.

  ‘So what are your plans?’ I asked.

  ‘Plans?’

  ‘Are you staying on the island, or are you going back to Belize City?’

  ‘Well, we wanted to do some fishing.’

  They were boarding the water taxi now. I watched as the three walked up the boarding ramp.

  Frank caught my glances. ‘Oh I see. Look, don’t let us stop you,’ he said, indicating the boat.

  ‘Mm? Oh no.’

  ‘You want to get the ferry, you should go now.’

  ‘It’s fine. I don’t want to get the ferry.
’

  We talked a little longer and I watched the water taxi pull out and head away, back to the mainland. I couldn’t let it disappear. I had to follow the clients after they’d disembarked. I had to find out who they were.

  ‘This fishing,’ I said. ‘Could you do it back in Belize City? Strange question, I know, but…’

  Lucia looked at me. She then looked across at her granddad. ‘He wants his return journey,’ she said to him. ‘He did pay the hundred and twenty for a return as well.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Actually, would you mind? I’m sorry about your fishing. Look, I’d be happy to give you another twenty. Least I could do. You’ve both been very generous.’

  Frank waved away any thought of more money.

  ‘You don’t agree on a figure and then suddenly give more. If a hundred and twenty was agreed for a return trip. Well, we have your hundred and twenty. We owe you a return trip.’

  ‘That’s very kind,’ I said.

  ‘No. That’s simple business,’ he said. ‘But let me get this right, Phil. You pay a hundred and twenty dollars because you’re so eager to experience the islands. Then once you get to the island you have a couple of drinks and then you get the first boat back?’

  I shrugged. ‘Enough excitement for one day.’

  ‘I told you he was strange,’ Lucia said smiling.

  ‘I’m beginning to believe it.’

  Frank insisted on paying for all the drinks, no matter how much I protested, and we walked down to the jetty where Lucia and Frank’s boat was berthed. The front was less busy, now that no water taxi was on the horizon.

  Frank tried to get the engine going as we stepped aboard. Three, four times, each time misfiring. I started to feel queasy. The water taxi was already almost out of sight. It just needed this boat to break down on us and I could kiss goodbye to following the clients.

  On the ninth attempt the engine coughed into life. It spluttered and then gave the steady roar.

  Relief flooded through me.

  ‘Well done, Frank,’ I said.

  ‘Just needed the right touch,’ he said.

  I sat back alongside Lucia and we roared off.

  ‘Lucia was telling me you married a local girl, Frank,’ I said a little while later.

  Frank nodded. ‘Oh yeah. The sweetest. Marigold Hartley, as was. Forty-eight years in June. She doesn’t like fishing, does she?’ he said, looking at Lucia.

  Lucia shook her head and smiled. ‘Gran doesn’t like the fish wriggling on the hooks. She doesn’t like the lures wriggling on the hooks, either.’

  ‘But she’s strong in other ways.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Lucia agreed.

  ‘Were you angling for being invited for a meal?’ Frank asked me.

  ‘Was I what?’ I said, almost laughing.

  We were slowly gaining on the water taxi. I thought I could see the thug, sitting at the back of the boat with the clients. In the far distance, Belize City was just becoming visible.

  ‘Would you like Mr Philip to come to dinner, Lucia?’

  Lucia looked at her granddad and smiled with defiance. ‘That’s up to you and Gran, isn’t it?’

  We all suddenly looked to the front at the same time.

  In the far distance, on land, a huge cloud of what looked like dust or smoke, spread up and outwards.

  About six seconds later we heard the sound of an almighty explosion.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lucia and Frank’s eyes were wide. They stared straight ahead, the colour draining from their faces.

  I could hear gasps coming from the water taxi. People were now rushing to the front of the boat to see what had happened. Curiously, though, not Toledo or the clients. They seemed to be taking it calmly. Only ambling slowly to the middle of the boat.

  Lucia, her mouth open in shock, looked between me and Frank. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

  ‘Some sort of explosion,’ Frank said.

  I thought I could see Lucia beginning to shake. I put my arm around her. Tried to comfort her as best I could.

  Belize City was their home. And it just looked as if a massive bomb had gone off in it.

  My mobile vibrated and I pulled it from my shirt pocket. It was Charlie.

  ‘I saw it,’ I said into the phone.

  ‘The explosion? Yes, we’re assessing that. But this is about something else. It’s Steenhoek. He found the device.’

  I went cold.

  I looked across to the water taxi. I could see the client with the close-cropped hair had also taken a call on his mobile. His back suddenly straightened. He started looking around. He said something to the other two. He looked around again. Looked out at the water. Scanned the horizon. His gaze continued round. I lowered my head. I saw him catch sight of our little boat. I lowered my head still further, so my whole face was obscured by my hat.

  I stared down at my shoes for a full minute.

  When I looked up, the client was still looking at us.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The water taxi was pulling into harbour. The wiry man lowered the boarding ramp and the passengers began to disembark. There was a lot of shouting. People were being told to stay close to the marina for now. A middle-aged woman was speaking into a walkie-talkie and waving her hands to gain the attention of the passengers.

  Our boat had still to reach the marina. I watched as Toledo and the clients stepped off the water taxi. They ignored the middle-aged woman and walked around to where our boat would pull in. They stopped and looked out at us.

  ‘We can’t stop here,’ I said, motioning Frank away from the controls.

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘Of course we can.’

  ‘We have to see if we can help,’ Lucia said.

  I slowed the boat. The clients were still looking at us.

  ‘Okay, you two get out of sight,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ Lucia.

  ‘Just trust me, please. You need to get out of sight.’

  I steered the boat away to the right. Accelerated parallel to the harbour.

  ‘Is there another marina we can go to?’ I asked.

  ‘Would you kindly tell me what’s going on?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Later, Frank. I will. For now, we need to move.’

  ‘Well you’re going in the wrong direction,’ he said. ‘You want to head down the coast.’

  I swung the boat round, one eighty degrees, spraying wash as we turned, and accelerated back down the coast. I brought my mobile phone out as we approached the marina again. Toledo and the client with the close-cropped hair were now walking up the front, Toledo on his mobile phone, probably talking to Steenhoek. The other client, the dark-skinned man with the red pocket handkerchief, was still where he had been, looking out at us. Although now he too was talking to someone on his mobile phone. His eyes bored into us, bored into me.

  We passed the marina and the water taxi and continued south. I called the number for Charlie.

  ‘Where?’ I asked Frank.

  ‘It’s about three or four miles.’

  ‘Sounds good. Keep your head down. Charlie,’ I said into the phone. ‘I’ll need the car. I’ve got two friends.’

  ‘It’s a small jetty,’ Frank said. ‘Hasn’t been in use for a while. Are you anything to do with the bomb?’

  ‘Bomb?’ Lucia looked startled.

  ‘It looked like a bomb to me,’ Frank said, keeping his eyes on me.

  ‘A small jetty, three or four miles south of the Swing Bridge,’ I said to Charlie.

  ‘Got it.’

  I hung up. ‘I had nothing to do with that explosion,’ I said. ‘But I believe those men on the bank who were looking at us may have had something to do with it. That’s why I don’t want them to see you.’

  ‘Who are they?’ Frank asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘They seem to know you.’

  ‘I work in a security capacity. I believe they murdered one of my colleagues.’

/>   ‘You said you worked in sales.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry.’

  ‘And you decided to get my granddaughter involved in all this?’

  ‘It’s escalated. I’m sorry about that. I will try to get you to safety. I just need you to do what I say.’

  ‘You’re the one who got us involved in this.’

  ‘I didn’t plant the bomb. I’m not the one who’s a threat to you or your country. But currently, and for some reason I’ve yet to find out, some people are. Help me out here, Frank.’

  We bounced through the water for a while, none of us speaking. The only sounds being the crash of waves as we sped along. Then Frank stood. He pointed over to the right. ‘Beyond those trees,’ he said. ‘You’ll see the jetty. We can go in there.’

  I slowed the boat and steered it in towards the dilapidated jetty. Overhanging branches rested onto the broken wooden slats.

  Lucia jumped out onto the jetty and threw the rope over a wooden stump, tying it securely.

  ‘A car’s going to pick us up,’ I told them. ‘It’ll take us to a safe house.’

  We didn’t have long to wait. Charlie would’ve used the GPS from my phone for the precise location.

  We heard an approaching engine. When I could see it was definitely our vehicle, we stepped out of the trees. I recognised Ned driving. A short pit bull of a man, with dark curly hair. I’d heard about Ned. Heard he was a supremely skilled driver who could get a car out of any situation. I was glad to see him.

  He swiftly turned the car, a black Nissan X-trail, around and reversed back to us. He got out and opened the back door. I ushered Lucia and Frank inside.

  ‘How’s the traffic?’ I asked Ned.

  ‘Fire engines and BERT’s because of the explosion. Don’t worry.’ Meaning he knew the quick way.

  He turned to get back in the driver’s seat as I turned to go behind the car.

  I suddenly heard another engine, it was nearby and getting closer, and Ned pulled the Glock 9mm from his holster and he shouted out, ‘Company.’ I called out to Lucia and Frank to get down. They hugged each other and cowered as low as they could go and then Ned smashed the back of his head on the metal door frame. His body spasmed; then again; and again. His body slumped forward to the ground and I raced around the car and saw the four exit wounds in his head and back and I heard some screams and realised they were coming from Lucia and I told Lucia and Frank to stay down as a mud-splattered red Jeep tore towards us.